


by saying it out loud

by QuietLittleVoices



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: College era, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietLittleVoices/pseuds/QuietLittleVoices
Summary: Sammy did things because they were best friends, because that’s how they’d always acted, but for Jack it was because he hadn’t realized he was already -Well. It doesn’t matter, because Sammy doesn’t feel the same. So why does Jack want to say anything, anyway?





	by saying it out loud

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda 'a few times Jack tried to tell Sammy he loved him and one time he did' with a Healthy dose of projection. gay guilt, always a fun time!

Jack chickens out before he even gets to Sammy’s apartment, the first time. He spends the entire day psyching himself up, even admitting to Lily that  _ maybe, possibly _ he wanted something different than the friendship he had with Sammy. 

And then he’s halfway down the street and losses his nerve. It would have been a good day, it would have been perfect, but - he didn’t. 

It isn’t that Jack is afraid Sammy will hate him forever, or anything. He knows that Sammy likes him, that they’re best friends - each other’s first real best friends. He knows that Sammy doesn’t want to lose that, either, even if he doesn’t feel the same way as Jack. Which he doesn’t, Jack is sure. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t make it easier, so he shows up for movie night like he does every week and he doesn’t say anything and Sammy sits too close on the couch. Like he always does. 

“What’s up?” Sammy asks, giving Jack a concerned look as he excuses himself for the third time with another made up reason. “You know, you can talk about anything that’s bothering you.”

Jack shakes his head and sits back down awkwardly, grabbing a handful of popcorn. “Just a bit stressed, it’s fine. I have this essay due on Friday that I’ve barely started.”

Sammy doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching Jack for a moment. Jack feels his stomach turn at the attention, like if Sammy watches close enough he’ll just  _ know _ . But then he turns back to the TV and Jack takes a deep breath. 

“You didn’t say shit, did you?” Lily asks when Jack gets home, and he dives for one of the couch pillows to throw at her before retreating to his room while she laughs at him. 

Jack just barely restrains himself from screaming into his pillow, because it  _ would _ have been a good day. It was movie night, and they were always both happier on movie night. Ever since Sammy started his internship at the radio station, there hadn’t been a lot of days when they were both on an even keel. Sammy comes home from work with his hands shaking and Jack is his own worst enemy, disappearing into notebooks and research when he gets too close to doing anything worthwhile. 

But Jack… has been thinking about it. Ever since his last boyfriend had broken up with him six months ago, he’s been thinking about it, about Sammy. Lily had teased him about having a crush ever since they’d met and Jack had always just brushed it off as her teasing their closeness. Except that, maybe, definitely, she was right. For Jack at least, something existed beside their friendship. A something that sometimes, when he forgot himself, made him think about Sammy leaning just a  _ little _ closer on movie night and resting his head against Jack’s shoulder. 

He just doesn’t know if it’s the same for Sammy. Sure, Sammy brought Jack food when he realized that Jack had been sucked into work for more than a day, but that was because he was a concerned best friend. And Sammy talked about them living and working together after graduation like it was a given, like neither of them would have a bigger priority than each other, but that was just short sighted. Even if it was all that Jack wanted for  _ other _ reasons. 

That was what stopped Jack, the first time. Sammy did things because they were best friends, because that’s how they’d always acted, but for Jack it was because he hadn’t realized he was already -

Well. It doesn’t matter, because Sammy doesn’t feel the same. So why does Jack want to say anything, anyway?

Jack almost says it before he realizes that Sammy has fallen asleep on the couch next to him. He’d been psyching himself up to say it, to just blurt it out, and he  _ just  _ thought he’d built up the courage, the internal momentum, and then he looks over and sees Sammy slumped over with his eyes closed. 

The adrenaline rushes out of Jack and he smiles before turning the TV off. Sammy’s eyes squeeze and he shakes himself awake. “Already over?” he asks, voice thick. 

“No, but I think it’s bedtime,” Jack says, pushing himself up and out of the deep couch. Sammy had gotten it off a curb and Jack had refused to sit on it until he’d proven it had been steam-cleaned, which Sammy had complained had been more expensive than buying a new goddamn couch. 

Sammy groans and reluctantly stands up. “You can stay over,” he offers, but Jack’s already shaking his head before he can finish.

“Lily’s expecting me,” he lies. She never is - she just knows he’ll be home every night, but she wouldn’t give a shit if he wasn’t just  _ once _ without notice. The lie falls flat to his own ears and Sammy’s shoulders tense slightly, but that was probably just from the weird position he’d been in ten seconds ago. “I’ll see you tomorrow? For the group project?”

Sammy nods. “Sure. See you.”

There’s a moment where Jack thinks that Sammy is gonna hug him and then he doesn’t, he walks past Jack to the front door to see him off. Jack stands in the hallway until he hears the lock click.

The facts that Jack had where that while Sammy wasn’t going to hate him for accidentally stumbling into something that looked a lot like romantic love, he sure as shit wasn’t returning anything. 

Jack didn’t have hard proof, obviously. The lack of evidence for Sammy returning any feelings didn’t mean the lack of feelings, but it sure felt like it might as well be. Jack kept returning to the question of  _ why _ he needed to say anything, anyway. He was sure that Sammy was just acting how he would as a best friend, with anyone, and it just happened to be Jack. Jack, who’d gone and taken normal friendship and twisted it into something else. 

How was he supposed to start a conversation that was only going to end poorly, anyway?

Jack knew he couldn’t just start with  _ hey, just so you know, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, or I could be _ . He didn’t want to put that burden on Sammy, the expectation of it. Because he didn’t expect anything.

So  _ why _ ? When there weren’t any expectations or illusions, why did the answer matter so much that Jack couldn’t even think about moving on?

Jack has already lost track of how much beer he’s had by the time someone calls a round of shots. And then he loses track of those, too. 

“Where’s Sammy?” Jack asks, letting his whole weight drop onto a couch next to Lily who just rolls her eyes. Or Jack was pretty sure that’s what she does - the details are blurry and Jack can’t feel his fingertips. His chest is warm and his eyes just can’t quite focus. Maybe he needs glasses?

“I don’t know,” Lily replies, breaking through the haze in Jack’s for a moment. “I’m not his fucking babysitter. But you should consider going home.”

Jack is pretty sure that he makes a face at that because Lily shoves at his shoulder. “Go home,” she repeats, and when Jack nods his head feels like lead. The effort to pick it back up is tremendous, but he still manages to get himself off the couch and heading towards the door. As he tries to leave, the guys from his rugby team keep pulling him into one armed hugs or trying to get him to take more shots, but Jack just waves them off and keeps trying to find the door.  _ Was it by the kitchen?  _ Jack couldn’t remember.

Eventually, though, Jack does find it, and a blast of hot and muggy Floridian air hit him in the face. He’d hoped that it would be colder, sobering, but the humidity settles over his skin like a blanket, insulating the hazy feeling. He points himself in the direction that he’s pretty sure he and Lily had come from and starts walking. It takes him a few blocks before he realizes that he should have called a taxi, but they don’t live far.

And then Jack is in front of Sammy’s door, not his own, but he shrugs and lets himself in with a key. If Sammy isn’t home, he won’t mind Jack crashing on his couch for the night. He never does. 

Except that Sammy is home. Sammy is home with - Brian, Brandon, Jack can’t remember the guys name. Had never thought he’d see him outside of class. Doesn’t care to retrieve the memory now, with all the fog in his brain. 

Jack stands there and blinks as they jump apart like they’ve been caught - well, caught exactly like they were, Brody-or-Brett with his shirt off and Sammy’s belt on the floor.

“I’m just gonna -” Jack gestures towards the apartment door but all of a sudden his stomach lurches and he rushes into Sammy’s bathroom. Jack doesn’t know how long it is before the door is opening tentatively and Sammy sits down next to him, his back against the cabinets. 

“Need anything?” Sammy asks quietly, voice even, like Jack didn’t just -

Jack’s stomach heaves again and Sammy places a hand on his back. “I already brought you some water.”

Jack takes the glass and drinks it gratefully. “You didn’t have to kick him out.”

If Jack had still been drunk when he walked in, he’s almost sober now. Probably because all the alcohol in his system is now in the drain, but with that came a full awareness of what had just happened. His stomach twists but there isn’t anything left so he just passes Sammy the empty glass and Sammy stands up, filling it in the bathroom sink and sitting back down. 

“I kinda did,” Sammy says lightly. There’s no annoyance there, not like how Lily was when Jack accidentally wandered in on her and her latest pull of the week. “I mean, we weren’t alone anymore, and I’d rather make sure you were okay than -” he cuts himself off, face red. 

Jack takes a deep breath, thankful that his  _ situation _ made anything he did seem normal. “I mean, I could’ve left.”

“I’m not letting you go home like this,” Sammy counters. “You’re gonna take some Tylenol and sleep it off on the couch.” 

Jack’s mind flashs to the couch, to Brad-Brenon’s face when he saw Jack, to Sammy looking flushed next to him. “I think - home. Bed.”

“Then I’ll walk you home and stay there,” Sammy says diplomatically. “But then I’m staying on  _ your _ couch, and that doesn’t seem fair. So make this easier on both of us and just - stay. I don’t wanna wake up and find out you choked on your own vomit and I could’ve helped.”

Jack almost says it, then. He thinks he’s maybe still drunk, even if most of the edge is gone, and he’s got something burning in the bottom of his stomach that he doesn’t want to think about. The jealousy that’s more than he’s got claim on, more than he feels comfortable having. 

The knot in his stomach tightens and he dry-heaves over the toilet, and Sammy’s hand falls onto his back again, and Jack doesn’t say it. 

Lily doesn’t look impressed with Jack, but she rarely does. He’s pretty sure that she wouldn’t look impressed if he got a Pulitzer. 

This time, though, Jack knows that he deserves it. He’s laying facedown in his bed and has been ever since he’d gotten home from his rugby game that Sammy had watched. Sammy usually watched his games but -

“Take a fucking shower,” Lily says, and Jack just groans in response. “Okay, not my problem if you want your sheets to stink forever.”

Jack rolls over and looks at Lily dejectedly. “Why’d he have to come?”

Lily rolls her eyes and leans against the doorframe, clearly not wanting to come closer because - yeah, Jack could admit it, he kinda stunk. “Can’t fucking imagine,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“He just looked so -” Jack waves one hand above his head in a vague gesture, trying to demonstrate  _ happy/cute/excited _ . Sammy had just looked… engaged after Jack got off the field and found him and Lily. Like he only had eyes for Jack. It wasn’t that much different than normal, Jack realizes, but - he noticed it, and that was what was different. It was his own damn fault for reading into it and making himself  _ feel _ things. 

“Stupidly infatuated?” Lily tries. “You’re both useless.”

Jack doesn’t reply, rubbing a hand down his face, and Lily turns to leave. “Do you actually think he is?” he asks quietly. He’s almost sure that she’s missed it or is ignoring him but she stops and looks back.

“You can’t be  _ that _ stupid. Just - tell him, you’ll see.” 

Jack frowns as Lily walks away. Sure, there was a sliver of a chance, because Jack  _ didn’t  _ know for sure, but then why would he have been trying to hook up with that guy at the party last week? He would have if Jack hadn’t stumbled in and thrown up and ruined the mood, so obviously he couldn’t have feelings for Jack. 

_ Why bother asking when you know the answer is bad? _ Jack wonders idly, staring at the ceiling.  _ Because you think it might be better _ . But he didn’t. He couldn’t. If he thought that Sammy liked him back and he was willing to just stand to the side and watch Sammy hook up with nameless guys at parties, then he might lose his mind completely. Which meant - he should say something. Right? Even if he knew it was bad. 

Jack throws one of his pillows at the back of his closed bedroom door and the thud it makes is not nearly satisfying enough to get rid of the pent up emotions in his chest, so he gets up to take a shower.

Jack has a plan. He’s going to go to Sammy’s for movie night and he’s just gonna say it, and let Sammy say whatever he’s going to, and then it will be over. It’s a great plan. And it all goes out the window when Sammy opens the door looking tired and frazzled. His hands are shaking as he lets Jack in and he apologizes for the mess (a few dishes in the kitchen sink, a pile of laundry in the hallway, better than Jack and Lily’s apartment on a good day). Jack can’t put the pressure on Sammy, not when he knows it will just make Sammy uncomfortably try to reject him and make them both feel worse. 

“What’s up?” Jack asks when they settle on the couch, shoulders inclined towards each other. 

Sammy shrugs. “Just… it’s fine. It’s nothing.”

“It can’t actually be nothing,” Jack points out, reaching towards Sammy and then pulling his hand back quickly before the gesture is noted.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sammy corrects, not looking at Jack as he flicks over to the DVD and shows that the X Files is already ready to go. 

Jack continues to watch Sammy for a second before focusing on the screen. “Okay. But later.”

Sammy hits play without answering. On screen, Mulder wakes up on a ship and Jack watches as he finds out he’s travelled back in time. It’s a good episode, one of his favourites, but he can barely focus on the TV. 

Bit by bit, Sammy relaxes as the episode continues playing until his shoulder is pressed against Jack’s. By the end, all of his attention is focused on that point of contact and the way Sammy looks more calm now than he did just an hour ago. He watches Sammy through the side of his eye as Mulder says “In case we never meet again” and kisses Scully and there’s something heavy in his stomach -  _ what if we never meet again? _ It’s a stupid, unrelated thought. He and Sammy have plans later in the week, they aren’t going to be separated by time travel shenanigans and vanishing ships. But it sticks - what if he messes everything up and they never meet again, after everything is said and done? But what if, like Mulder and Scully, they’re just a few misunderstands away from happiness?

He finds himself talking before he even realizes, and he’s staring at Sammy completely now. “I love you,” he says, at the same time as Mulder does on screen, but instead of scoffing the way Scully does Sammy just stares back, wide-eyed.

“What?” Sammy asks. But he isn’t moving away.

“Sorry,” Jack says quickly. “I meant to - I had a whole speech? About friendship and expectation and stuff, but. It doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just… needed you to know. And I know you don’t - it’s fine. I just needed to say it.”

Sammy moves his hand to rest in the space between them, palm up. “Thought you might just be quoting the show again,” he says softly. “You do that, sometimes, when you aren’t paying attention.”

“I was paying attention. This time, at least.” Jack places his hand on top of Sammy’s and squeezes. “So you -”

“Yeah,” Sammy confirms, smiling. “I love you, too.”

Jack grins and brings his free hand up to the side of Sammy’s face, the tips of his fingers disappearing into his long hair. For a second, they’re frozen in time, both too afraid to make the next move - Jack almost feels like this might be some cosmic joke, like someone’s gonna jump out and say  _ gotcha! _ , but then Sammy leans towards him. And all the fear goes out as he kisses Sammy. 


End file.
